


A Night to Remember: Or, In Which Linhardt Repeatedly Falls Asleep at the Ball

by Kaerra



Series: Fluffcember: In Which Linhardt Awakens Everywhere and Shenanigans Ensue [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: All related to the Garreg Mach Ball in Academy phase, F/M, Fluffcember 2020, Mostly Fluff, Some sadness/comfort, Will update ship tags with each new chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:09:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27990540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaerra/pseuds/Kaerra
Summary: When Caspar drags Linhardt to the Garreg Mach Ball to help him get his courage up to ask Hilda to dance, Linhardt grudgingly complies, but mostly focuses on trying to find various places to sleep. Only he keeps waking up and interrupting other students, often with unexpected impacts!A collection of Fluffcember prompts, with Linhardt waking up in each one. Every chapter will feature a different ship or gen/platonic group of students. I'll update the summary as I go along (chapter titles are named as well). Planned ships include Felannie, Ferdithea, Lysihardt, Petrashe, and Leorenz, but I'm hoping to work in more. We'll see as I write more of them!1). Hilda/Caspar - prompt: hand-holding
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Series: Fluffcember: In Which Linhardt Awakens Everywhere and Shenanigans Ensue [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2050062
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	A Night to Remember: Or, In Which Linhardt Repeatedly Falls Asleep at the Ball

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, welcome to the Garreg Mach Ball mini collection of my Fluffcember prompts! I based this around the long flashback ball scene written from Felix's perspective in my Felannie centric long fic, The Raven and the Bluebird. You can read that [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23639632/chapters/63326191) (it's the second scene of chapter 9) if you want the full context, but it's not at all necessary to enjoy the story. This is my silly way of indulging myself, discovering what went on with other people that night at the same event! 
> 
> Up first is Hilspar! I hope you all enjoy! ^_^

The Ethereal Moon Ball was in full swing, but Caspar might as well have been fighting his way through a battlefield. There were throngs of people standing around on either side of the dance floor, and he’d lost track of Linhardt. How many places could a person sleep in a room this crowded, anyway?

Finally, he spied Linhardt’s reclined form against a wall, a small pillow propped between the cold stone and his head. Good goddess, asleep when the entire monastery was chattering in the reception hall? That guy was unbelievable... and not in a good way.

It took another few minutes of maneuvering through groups of overexcited students and a vehemently gesticulating Manuela before Caspar reached Linhardt. His mood had darkened from all of the fuss, so he yanked his friend to his feet without bothering to wake him first.

“What the—” Lin’s eyes bugged open in shock. “I was having a very nice dream, thank you very much, Caspar.”

Caspar snorted. “So this is your idea of hanging out at the dance with me? Sleeping and leaving me to fend for myself?”

Linhardt yawned, and rolled his pillow into a shape resembling rolled parchment paper, tied it with a ribbon, and stuck it in his jacket.

“If we must. This place is very tiresome. What could you possibly want to do here?”

“Dance with some girls, of course!” Caspar said, pumping his fist. “Eat dessert! Have fun!”

“You have very singular ideas of fun,” Linhardt scoffed, but followed Caspar back into the crowd.

Caspar led the way towards where he last saw Hilda—whom he’d been secretly crushing on since seeing her fight during weekend training several months ago. (Just the combination of a girl that pretty swinging an ax with beautiful form and strength had bowled him over.) She’d been near the dance floor, giggling with Annette, but he’d wasted so much time looking for Lin, she was probably dancing with some important noble heir by now.

After slipping past Lorenz and Ferdinand prosing on about nobility, Caspar stopped short when Hilda’s pink ponytails came into view. She was still there! His first response was relief, followed by rage at everyone who didn’t ask her for a dance, like she wasn’t worth their attention. He’d show them all—once he actually asked her to dance.

Hilda laughed at something Annette said, and Caspar’s heart started pounding in his chest, struck by an attack of nerves. What if she didn’t say yes? They weren’t in the same class, and only had a few friends in common, so was it—

“If you keep staring at Annette much longer, you’ll burn a hole through her,” Linhardt said loudly in Caspar’s ear, making him jump.

“What?” he snapped. “I’m not staring at Annette!”

Linhardt gave him a knowing look and Caspar felt his face flush.

“As I suspected,” Lin said in that infuriating way of his. “Well, my friend, since you insisted on dragging me here, you might as well go ask Hilda to dance. That is what you want, correct?”

Caspar’s annoyance fled like a battalion at minimal strength, and he deflated. “I dunno… I mean, Hilda has so many nobles of actual stature interested in her. I’m just a second son.”

Linhardt folded his arms. “If you think that’s the sort of thing that makes a person decide who to dance with, then Hilda’s not worth your time. But you won’t know unless you ask.”

“Yeah, I know.” Caspar sighed. “I just gotta rally my courage. Pretend this is just a battle.”

Linhardt nodded sagely. “With better dressed bandits. Well, I may as well wander towards the desserts, perhaps something interesting may be over there.”

Caspar slapped him on the shoulder, then turned and walked purposefully towards the two girls. He felt the weight of someone’s eyes on him, but he could clearly see Hilda and Annette were giggling and pointing at something on the dance floor; it wasn’t them. A thorough scan of the room eventually revealed the source—against the far wall, a pair of narrowed amber eyes regarded his approach as though assessing for a threat. Felix. Kinda strange, they usually got on fine at the training grounds. He wasn’t interested in Hilda, was he?

Well, even if he was, Caspar von Bergliez wasn’t backing down without a fight! He just had to win the first one: against his nerves.

Hilda and Annette smiled and waved when he pulled within sight of them.

“Oh, hey Caspar!”

“Hey!”

They looked at him expectantly, but his words stuck in his throat like overly dry toast. Annette made a strange blinking look at him, which he didn’t comprehend. Was something stuck in her eye? She sighed, and restarted the conversation.

“Oh Hilda, did you get to try the sweet lemon curd pastries at the dessert table?” she asked brightly.

“No! Those sound delicious!”

They started rambling on about the desserts, and Caspar found himself nodding and smiling rather than leading the conversation. Finally he recovered enough to ask about Annette’s ankle she’d twisted a few weeks ago. He’d been lucky to find her and carry her back.

“Oh my, it was you who bravely carried Annette back from the battle?” Hilda asked him, eyes wide. “That’s like something out of a knight’s tale.”

“Hilda, you’re being silly!” Annette laughed. “It was my own fault I got hurt and separated from my battalion. Anyway, I’m sure Caspar isn’t here to talk about that!”

She looked at him again, an odd glint in her eyes. Whatever it meant, Caspar wasn’t sure, but he decided to take it as a sign of encouragement and rallied his determination. He could do this!

“It’s great to see you one hundred percent again, Annette, but uh, yeah, you’re right.” Turning his gaze on Hilda, he pushed his nerves away, and soldiered on. “Hey, uh, Hilda, I was wondering if you’d like to… you know, dance with me?”

“Me?” Hilda looked surprised, and Caspar’s heart froze in his chest until she smiled. “My, you are the picture of chivalry, Caspar! I’d love to dance, as long as you promise to sweep me off my feet like you did with Annette!”

Inside his mind, Caspar shouted a victory battle cry and did a fist pump, turning all of the nervous energy into euphoria. Mission accomplished! Then he crashed back to earth when Hilda’s last words fully registered.

“Um... you want me to pick you up on the dance floor?” Caspar asked hesitantly.

Annette rolled her eyes, although a smile remained on her face. “Hilda, quit teasing poor Caspar!”

Hilda stepped forward, merriment sparkling in her pink eyes. “Who says I was teasing? I’m certain you’re strong enough to lift little old me off the dance floor.”

“Sure I could, if that’s what you really want!” Caspar said, buoyed by the promise of challenge.

If Hilda wanted to be swept off of her feet, he absolutely wanted to be the guy to do it. Just knowing she was certain he could filled him with a rush of confidence, like being on top of the world.

The music changed, signaling the start of a gavotte, a more upbeat style of dancing than the waltz, and Caspar’s spirits soared. The perfect music, Hilda had said yes: the stars were aligned for good luck.

He reached out his hand to her, palm up. Hilda’s fingers wrapped around his own, warm and startlingly small. It felt right.

“Let’s show ‘em how it’s done, Hilda!” he crowed.

“Lead the way!” she giggled, and followed him onto the dance floor.


End file.
